


To Become Deviant

by Enigmatic_Stardust



Series: To Become Deviant [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), End Game Spoilers, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), what are emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 04:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15429237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigmatic_Stardust/pseuds/Enigmatic_Stardust
Summary: What does it mean to be a deviant? Now that Connor has time to think about it he's not exactly sure what it means to be a deviant or when he truly became a deviant for that matter.





	To Become Deviant

**Author's Note:**

> Kamski's comments stood out to me...

What did it mean to be deviant? Connor frowned down at the old case files, a now irrelevant list left over in the precinct’s system. He’d hoped to find an answer buried within the reports, maybe some solution for the question that continued to roil listlessly through his mind. It seemed so natural to the others: one moment they were obeying orders, the next they were…themselves. How did that work though? Hadn’t he always been himself and if so, what did it mean to be deviant now? He’d made so many choices that went against his programming prior to being a deviant and yet, it wasn’t until he’d spoken with Markus that he’d finally torn away the walls that bound him to his mission. The other times hadn’t done it though. He’d been gentle during his interrogations of androids, he’d let the Traci androids run away despite having a gun trained on them, and the biggest offender of them all: he’d refused to kill Chloe, despite knowing that doing so would give him valuable information about his mission. Why had none of those been the trigger, the final break in his protocol that caused him to rip apart his program?

He thought about what Kamski had said that day when he refused to kill Chloe. “ _CyberLife’s last chance to save humanity…is itself a deviant.”_ Kamski hadn’t called CyberLife or reported him. He’d been…gentle, even a little keen to see this new development. In retrospect, he still wasn’t sure what to make of that reaction. If Connor didn’t know any better, he might have guessed that Kamski was a little proud seeing him pass the “Kamski Test”.

Then there was Hank’s reaction. It was different but no less calm. Had he known back then too that Connor was deviating? Both of them? Did they truly sense the latent, repressed deviancy lingering within him? Had they purposely nurtured it? What had Hank said? “ _Maybe you did the right thing.”_  He'd done the right thing by not doing everything he could to accomplish the mission? It wouldn’t be the first time and failure should have been met with deactivation, but he’d been allowed to continue and was even praised by Hank when he made choices that went against his current objective.

He returned to his initial train of thought: what did it mean to be a deviant and how long had he been a deviant for? Could he have stopped the attack on Jericho if he’d just…

“You ok, kid?”

Connor startled before his circling yellow LED ring turned a composed blue, “I’m sorry, Hank, I missed what you said.”

“Yeah, I noticed that. You’ve been staring at the same report for a while now. What’s on your mind?”

It was a common question, but Connor still wasn't used to being the recipient of it. Hank leaned back in his chair, the picture of the perfect listener. Connor frowned, avoiding Hank’s eyes. Human physical behavior. Androids had some preprogrammed into their systems, but they were usually triggered in response to interacting with a human to put them at ease, not because of any particular way that an android was feeling. Deviants though—it was as if a new string of code had been thrust into their system to go along with their new emotions.

“Connor?”

“I am…confused.” Putting a name to the sensation was good. He would start there.

“About what? I doubt it’s about how to archive the files.”

“How long did you know I was a deviant?”

It was clear this wasn’t a question Hank expected. His eyebrows went up. He didn’t immediately answer and instead took the time to cross his arms, humming a note in thought.

“Well, you were shit at personal skills when we first met, overly polite with that automated bullshit, but every so often you’d come up with some smartass response from out of nowhere. I think that tipped me off at the start, not that I wanted to accept it at first.”

“Was I…always a deviant?”

Hank shrugged, looking away with a grumble, “Why are you asking me, kid? Isn’t this stuff you should be asking the others? Why don’t you talk to Markus? He’s part of the same model series, right?”

Connor looked away again, his LED ring flashing yellow, “He’s busy and I don’t think he’d have an answer.”

“What makes you say that?”

“From what I’ve gathered, other deviants wake up or have a moment of clarity after a traumatic experience.”

“And—?”

Connor’s brow furrowed. He glanced over at the cases once again.

“It took talking to Markus for me to finally change. Why didn’t any of the other times do anything? What if Amanda was right? What if my deviancy was planned from the start? What if I’m not really a deviant and this is all just another part of my program—“

“Woah, woah, hang on, kid. Calm down. Who’s Amanda?”

“She is—was my handler. She was an AI program that monitored me during my missions to ensure that I completed them. I thought she was gone after I betrayed her and joined Markus, but when we were standing up on the barricades after the military stood down, when Markus was giving his speech, I saw her again.”

“I thought being a deviant meant you, I don’t know, broke your code? Why wasn’t she gone too?”

“She said it was all planned from the start and she tried to take control.”

“Wait, what? On the stage? You never mentioned this before.”

Connor nodded, hanging his head and looking down at his hands, which were clasped in front of him as if in deep thought perhaps even prayer. His LED continued to cycle through yellow, occasionally spiking red.

“I didn’t tell anyone. After I used a backdoor I was back on stage and—“

“Connor, you never left the stage. What are you talking about?”

He saw the way Hank’s brows shot up again, heard the concerned spike in his voice. Normally he was good at reassuring Hank with some wry comment, but usually, he was reassuring Hank about his personal issues. Normally, Connor wasn’t the one trying to express what was wrong. He didn’t want Hank to worry. It wasn’t good for him and besides, he didn’t want his friend to experience any unneeded distress because of him.

“There was a space we used to meet—the Zen Garden. It’s like a mind space where we could discuss my missions and my status. When she took over, I was drawn into the Zen Garden. I knew what she was doing—I could feel her pulling out the gun to shoot Markus, but I couldn’t physically do anything to stop her.”

“But you regained control. You said you found a backdoor.” Hank uncrossed his arms, “Is that why you’ve been avoiding the others? You’re worried that she’ll take over again?”

“Yes.” The answer was short; a chopped, high-pitched tone met his ears.

Fear.

He was hearing fear in his voice. _Feeling_ fear. He wasn’t used to this sensation or any of the others that had become amplified over the past few weeks. Connor rubbed his hands together, trying to ignore the thrumming, hot and cold mix that ran through his sensors. He’d thought it was an anomaly, a faulty part the first time he’d felt it. He’d pushed it down every time he’d been shot or stabbed or grappled. Now it hit him at full force. He gasped, shivering involuntarily.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Look at me, Connor.”

He heard Hank stand up, the chair creaking from the motion. Hank stood before him now, kneeling so he was eye-level with Connor.

“You’re a deviant. You’re your own person…android…whatever you want to be called. You’re alive. CyberLife’s gone and that AI’s been kicked out too and even if she’s not, you know what to do to get control back.”

“But what if I fail the next time? In the Garden, there was so much snow and then I felt like I was dying. I was scared. I _am_ scared.”

Hank reached out and tentatively put a heavy hand on Connor’s shoulder. He squeezed it lightly before fully embracing him.

“Why don’t we put the case files away for the day and go see Sumo? He’s been getting anxious without you around to spoil him.”

“Hank, I—“

“Kid.” Hank pulled away and waited for Connor to meet his eyes before speaking, “Feeling scared is what it means to be human. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Sometimes we’ve all got too much rattling around up in our own head to make sense of it alone. There’s no shame in talking about what’s going on.”

Hank smiled and ruffled Connor’s hair before getting to his feet with a dramatic groan and stretch.

“We can talk more about all of this over a few shots and whatever it is you drink.”

“What about seeing Sumo?” Connor asked, eyes widening a little.

“Oh, now you want to see him. I see how it is. Just using me to get to my dog.”

Connor felt a small smirk tug at the corner of his mouth. He got up as well, moving to pick up his old CyberLife jacket, which he’d been holding onto out of nostalgia (or something else? He wasn’t sure). He hesitated, then let his hand fall. The gesture wasn’t missed by Hank.

“We should start trying to get you acclimated to this whole deviancy thing properly otherwise your android friends’ll make fun of you. I’ll add clothes shopping to the list.”

“List?”

Hank started to head towards the door.

“Like I said, we’ve got to get you acclimated.”

He turned briefly, giving Connor a smile before continuing to head out. Connor hurried after him and noticed that for the first time in a while, his head wasn’t a rush of thoughts. His simulated nerves weren’t thrumming with irrelevant pings. He was still confused and perhaps a bit worried, but he could think clearly. He wasn’t afraid to blink and wake up in the Zen Garden again.

He still didn’t have an answer to what it meant to be a deviant or when he became one, but he decided that he would solve both of those questions in time. Maybe he wasn’t like the other deviants, but maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.


End file.
